The Founder's Inheritance
by XxMeWxX4444
Summary: The Founder's Inheritance has been lost for a thousand years. When the time runs out, lives are changed and ripples of change spread throughout Wizarding Britain. (Elf,!Harry, Elf!Neville, Elf!Susan, Elf!Hermione, no pairings so far)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The Sorting Hat was bored. It was often left in boredom within the Headmaster's office. After a thousand years where you only conversed with usually barmy Headmasters or eleven year olds, boredom became a constant companion. However, the Sorting Hat knew that his boredom would soon be vanquished. He had been counting the years, watching the advancements of Wizarding Britain as he waited. A thousand years had passed. The curse had been broken. Now all he had to wait for was the coming of age for the final Heir.

* * *

Hermione Jean Granger was born on September 19, 1979 to two normal parents. Eleven years later she was told she was a muggleborn witch, born from two muggles (non-magical humans) who was graced with the power of magic. She began Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and was Sorted into Gryffindor House after a strong dispute with the Sorting Hat over whether she should be there or in Ravenclaw. The House of Lions prevailed, though barely. For five years she was taught within Hogwarts Castle, going through dangerous adventures with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, her first and only friends.

* * *

Susan Amelia Bones was born on November 7, 1979 to a pureblood wizard of the Bones family and a muggleborn mother. During the first war against Lord Voldemort, many members of the Bones family were killed including her parents. This left Susan to be raised by Amelia Bones, her aunt and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sorted into Hufflepuff, Susan is a relatively friendly girl who doesn't hold much House discrimination, though she is understandably wary of the Slytherins. Her best friend is Hannah Abbot and the two girls can usually be seen together.

* * *

Neville Frank Longbottom was born on July 30, 1980 and lost his parents to insanity after they were tortured by Death Eaters during the first war against the Dark Lord. This left Neville in the care of his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. Neville was isolated as a child, leaving him as a shy boy who was generally nervous, having become wary of people after the various ways his family tried to bring out his accidental magic. Thinking himself a squib until he gained his Hogwarts letter, Neville had been pressured by Augusta to be as great as his Auror parents. Despite this he has a quiet confidence which led to him being Sorted into Gryffindor, despite his beliefs that he would end up in Hufflepuff.

* * *

Harry James Potter was born on July 31, 1980 to James and Lily Potter. Due to the prophecy predicted, Harry lost his parents and managed to defeat Lord Voldemort at the tender age of one. This left him with the moniker of the Boy-Who-Lived and gave him untold fame within the Wizarding World. Despite this, he was raised by his muggle aunt within a small town in Surrey. Treated no better than a House-elf, Harry was unprepared for the rush of attention he gained when he reentered the Wizarding World. Over the past five years he experienced many trials while the public went back and forth with their faith of him. From respected to hated, Harry has been witness to public slander of the worst kind while the muggle-raised Savior tried to go through schooling. With Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry survived through various murder attempts and even managed to confront Lord Voldemort on various occasions and come out alive. During his latest year of schooling he was forced into a tournament he was too young for, all because of an ex-Death Eater that had managed to sneak into the school in the guise of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. At the end of the tournament he saw a fellow classmate murdered, participated against his will in a revival ritual for the Dark Lord, and escaped back to Hogwarts. Afterwards he was sent back to his home in Little Whinging without so much as a mental examination or any therapy for the latest trial he was forced to overcome.

This is why Harry Potter now resided within the smallest room of Number 4, Privet Drive. He was lying on his bed, the room dark with the only light coming from his barred window. Vernon had replaced it after the Weasley twins wrenched it from the house second year when they came to save him.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Harry turned and stared at his alarm clock, staring at the flashing numbers: 11:58 P.M.

It was one of Dudley's broken presents, only useable after Harry had managed to fix it. It was still dented from where Dudley had smashed it with his fist, but that was ignorable.

Harry would soon be turning fifteen, his birthday arriving as soon as the clock turned to midnight. He had been forced into his room without dinner after snapping at Uncle Vernon, though Harry regretted nothing. Even if he was left with a blackened eye and cracked glasses. He knew the injury would heal overnight, just as any punishment did, though his half-cracked glasses would have to stay as they were until he got onto the Hogwarts Express.

Turning onto his side, Harry pulled his flimsy blanket closer around himself, staring at the red numbers: 11:59 P.M.

Clucking his tongue, Harry glanced over at the empty cage where Hedwig would usually be resting. He had convinced his relatives to allow her out of the house. He promised that he could have her stay at the Weasleys for the rest of the summer. This seemed to please them so they had allowed him to let her out the night that he had arrived back to the muggle house. A quick letter had been tied to the snowy owl's leg, pleading with Ron to take care of her.

Turning his attention back to the clock, Harry watched as the numbers changed: 12:00 A.M.

That was when the pain hit.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Boy!" Petunia Dursley shouted, knocking sharply on Harry Potter's bedroom door. "Come down and make breakfast!"

Groggily, emerald eyes were forced open as the now fifteen year old teen looked around the small room. Instinctively he reached for his bedside table, grabbing at his glasses as he rubbed at his eyes. Mumbling, he remembered what had waked him and answered the horse-necked woman. "I'll be down in a minute, Aunt Petunia!"

There was a huff before Harry could hear her walking away. In fact, he could even hear her walking down the stairs, despite the thick carpet the Dursleys had put in since he had been gone. Frowning in confusion, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes before placing his glasses on his face.

They were only on for a second before he snatched them off, closing his eyes in pain. Hesitantly opening them again, Harry stared down at his glasses in confusion, knowing that they would be slightly blurry (he had never had a correct prescription) but the fact that it was like looking through fogged glass was a new experience. Lifting them experimentally, he kept them away from his face as he peered through the lenses yet again.

Yup, still foggy.

Frowning, he looked around his room in confusion only for something to click into place within his mind. He could see perfectly. Better than perfect, in fact, seeing as he could make out every speck of dust on his dingy wardrobe and every crack on the wall from where Dudley had thrown a tantrum.

Shaking his head, Harry left his glasses on the bedside table and rose from his bed, swaying slightly as spots entered his vision. Staying still for a moment, Harry waited for the flashes of light to fade before looking around his room yet again. Nothing seemed to be off other than his eyesight.

Shrugging, Harry dismissed this change, happily welcoming the perfect eyesight. Glasses were incredibly annoying, especially when you had to pick glass out of your face when someone punched you.

Opening his wardrobe, Harry pulled on Dudley's cast-offs, only noticing something was off when he didn't have to roll up the sleeves to make them fit. Pausing to stare at the plaid shirts long sleeves in shock, Harry noticed that the shirt also didn't end past his mid-thigh anymore. In fact, ignoring the bagginess of the front, Harry would say it was his size.

That couldn't be right though. His cousin was large, only dwarfed by Uncle Vernon, and had several inches on Harry's slight frame.

Disbelieving, Harry pressed his back to the side of the wardrobe, pulling the pocket knife from the bottom of his wardrobe. It had been a gift from Sirius, brought along with a note that informed him that it was in case he ever had to stab his relatives. The note had only been half-joking, and Harry knew it.

Slicing into the already marred wood, Harry turned and looked between the marks he had made last summer on his birthday (this had turned into a sort of ritual) and stared dumbly at the space that separated the two marks.

It wasn't a secret he was the shortest male within Gryffindor House. In fact, the other boys often joked with him about it. Something about how the Boy-Who-Lived turned out to be a midget.

Harry suspected he'd never hear jokes like that again.

He had grown an entire foot overnight. How this was possible, Harry didn't know, but he was now six foot four. He had been in the magical world for four years and was about to entire his fifth year of schooling yet he had never witnessed such a drastic growth.

Running a hand through his untidy black hair, Harry let out a sigh before pulling on a pair of jeans, idly glancing at the chipped mirror that hung next to the wardrobe. He had to crouch to see it, seeing as it had been positioned at his former level of sight. His face looked the same, though he had lost any remains of baby fat.

Shrugging at the change, Harry quickly left the room before Aunt Petunia could screech up at him. He had chores to do. Or, he would if they didn't freak out about this major change.

They did.

Harry had a new black eye in place of the one his magic had healed the night before. It also felt like he had a broken rib, though he didn't dare move from his bed to find out. He probably had a broken tail bone as well, that would explain why the small of back was in pain. He wouldn't be getting any food today, he knew, so he reasoned that he should probably just sleep the day away.

And that he did.

* * *

Meanwhile, three other Hogwarts students were experiencing similar changes, though they were free from the abuse by family members.

Hermione Granger had only grown an inch, making her five foot six, but she was experiencing extreme pain in her back, right between her shoulder blades. This left her to stay on her bed, moaning in pain whenever she so much as twitched. Ginny Weasley, the youngest of seven, had woken up to her groaning, frowning in confusion when she became conscious. When she found her roommate in that state, she had quickly headed down to the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place to tell her mother. All of the Weasley children that still went to Hogwarts were within the musty house, spending their summer days cleaning away doxies and the like.

Mrs. Weasley worried over the bushy haired girl, but in the end was only able to give her a potion to reduce pain along with a Dreamless Sleep. Then she left the fifteen year old to sleep the day away, the rest of the children going down to breakfast before returning to cleaning.

Several hundred miles away, Neville Longbottom was in a same state of pain. He had grown to the height of six foot two, only a six inch difference, but he was running a fever while also gaining frequent chills. Augusta Longbottom had already given him a potion for the flu, assuming that to be the cause. She would check up on him in an hour, only to find him in the same state of shivering while his forehead beaded with sweat. The unconscious Longbottom heir had been in more intense pain than the other two, feeling as if his very blood was ripping him apart with every beat of his heart.

The final student that was experiencing changes was one Susan Bones, who was also in a state of unconsciousness. Amelia Bones had gone to check up on the young teen before she departed for the Ministry only to find the redhead in a similar quaking state as Neville. She had thrown her blankets from her bed, scratching at her calves until they were bleeding and blood was caught under her finger nails. She was crying from pain, unable to find a comfortable position in the too soft bed. Amelia had hastened to have the girl drink a pain and sleep potion, rubbing a healing salve over the weeping scratches on the girl's legs.

It was only after she left for work, having a house-elf ready to alert her if any changes happened to Susan, that the girl started whimpering in her sleep. The worried house-elf pinched its ears, staring at her sleeping little master and ready to pop to Mistress Amelia should the girl wake. The little creature didn't know that the unconscious girl had moved to the next change, feeling her blood boiling with every pump of her heart.

* * *

Emerald eyes snapped open, instantly alert as they peered around the shadowed room. The only light came from the crescent moon, casting the room in a pale blue glow.

"Bloody hell…" Harry groaned, rubbing his head in pain. He had a splitting headache, though it wasn't caused by his scar this time around. Letting out a grunt, Harry sat cross-legged on his mattress, glancing at the clock to see it was close to midnight. His birthday was almost over.

Rising, Harry headed over to the door and flicked on the light, wanting to look into the mirror to see if there were any more changes. What he saw shocked him to the core.

He no longer had the traits everyone related to James Potter. Though his hair was still an unruly mess, the jet-black strands now had streaks of a dark green only seen when the light caught them. His face was more aristocratic than it had been before, his cheek bones more easily seen as his nose straighter than it had been. His nose hadn't been straight since he was five and Dudley had broken it.

Then lips pursed in confusion before he finally focused on the trait that he had gained from his mother. Lily Potter's emerald eyes had brightened, almost an Avada Kedavra green. Blinking rapidly, Harry straightened, taking time to gather himself. After a few moments he bent again to stare at himself, frowning deeply. This wasn't normal. It _couldn't_ be normal.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Harry suddenly paused as skin caught his attention. Poking out from his hair, it had grown long and almost reached the nape of his neck, were his ears. Though, unlike normally, they were _pointed_.

Harry stared, his mouth gaping before he brushed aside his hair, staring at one ear and then the other. Both were the still normal, though instead of being rounded at the top they came up into a point. Blanching, Harry realized why there had been a stabbing pain that he had easily ignored from his ears.

Frowning, Harry remembered that he had been feeling the same stabbing pain from the small of his back. He had simply thought it was a broken bone to accompany his ribs, but even now after his ribs had healed his back was still in slight pain.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Harry lifted his shirt a bit and felt his mouth drop open and his eyes widen impossible.

A tail.

He had a _tail_ of all things.

"What the fuck?" He muttered, not noticing the harsh curse emitted from his mouth.

The _tail_ hung limply, reaching all the way to the ground and twitching at the bottom, sweeping against the floor. It was covered in sleek jet-black fur, though the longer hairs at the end of the tail were a dark forest green just like the streaks that now went through his hair. Gulping loudly, Harry hesitantly reached out a hand to touch the appendage, flinching at he felt it, the sensation being the same as if he had touched his own arm.

Glancing at the small of his back, Harry could see where the tail emerged, fine black hair surrounding it and going only up his back an inch, growing darker as it neared the tail base. A whimper of confusion broke through his lips, his startling green eyes scrunching shut in confusion and fear as desperate thoughts circled through his head. _What is happening to me?_

Glancing over at his bedside table, Harry remembered all of his friend's letters that he had stored within the drawer. They were bare of information about Voldemort with only hints about saving him from the Dursleys this summer. Despite his pleas for him to stay at the Burrow, where he assumed they were since it sounded like Ron and Hermione were in the same place, he had been denied the honor. They kept saying that they would see him soon, but they never mentioned _how_ soon.

He wouldn't tell them about these changes. He had already been bothering them enough this summer. Besides, Ron had Hedwig and he wouldn't be able to send a letter until they responded to his most recent one.

With that decision made, Harry wondered what he should do. There was something _wrong_ with him, and he very well couldn't go to Madam Pomfrey about it. For one, Hogwarts was closed for the summer, and two, there was no telling where the mediwitch even was.

This left him with one option: St. Mungo's, the hospital he had only heard about from the Hogwarts matron. Frowning, Harry wondered how he would be able to get there. He had been ordered to stay with the Dursleys, and he would probably be watched after what happened last year. He wouldn't put it past Professor Dumbledore.

Humming in thought, Harry turned to the trunk that he had been able to keep in his room instead of locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Tilting his head back and forth Harry stared at it for a moment before nodding his head and starting to gather the items spread throughout his room. He doubted he would be coming back once Professor Dumbledore found him, so that meant he would be packing as if he was heading back to Hogwarts.

He paused, turning to stare out the window as he heard a faint pop followed by whispering voices. That sounded like…no. Apparition? Why hadn't he noticed before?

Concentrating, he slowly picked up the words. "Light…ten minutes…cleaning…"

"Got…night, Dung…later."

Paling, Harry felt his eyes widening as he heard another pop, though it was louder due to him actually focusing now. Whatever had caused the tail had obviously improved his hearing as well as his sight. He was being guarded. He _knew_ it wouldn't be past Dumbledore.

Scowling deeply, Harry closed his bedroom curtains; luckily they had been left when all of Dudley's toys had been removed. Hurriedly he started packing everything, leaving his invisibility cloak on his bed. It took him an hour to find everything, having to double and triple check that he wouldn't be leaving anything.

Then it took another hour of him sitting in front of his trunk, both hands placed on the closed lid. He was focusing on his magic, trying to will forth the accidental magic that had saved him numerous times throughout his childhood. He had once used it to summon himself some cake during Dudley's birthday one year. It had been after everyone had gone to bed, having locked Harry in the cupboard all day. He had been starving and wishing he was able to have cake. The next second he had a slice of the chocolate dessert appearing on his small chest.

Now he focused on shrinking the trunk. He had created a plan to get away from Privet Drive and to St. Mungo's, but it required him shrinking his trunk for easy movement. This left him concentrating for an hour, wishing for what he wanted to happen.

Leaning back with a sigh, Harry glared at the trunk after it continued doing nothing. His new…_appendage_ was thumping the ground in frustration, tail tip twitching irritably.

_Shrink, damn you. I just want you to __**shrink**__!_ He thought heatedly, blinking in surprise as the trunk suddenly did as he willed. That's when realization struck him. It was as if he was in Transfiguration class again, hearing Professor McGonagall lecture about focusing and _urging_ the object to change as you wish. The incantation and wand movements were important as well, but the visualization of what you wanted was most important. You had to give your magic the incentive.

Harry had been imagining the trunk shrink until it would fit in his pocket, which it had.

Grinning happily, Harry stood from his place on the floor, picking up the trunk easily and slipping it into his pocket. He was in some torn jeans and a loose t-shirt, a black robe he had gotten at Madam Malkin's last summer thrown over his form. It only went to his mid-calf, seeing as he had grown so much, but Harry was just glad he had a robe that wasn't his Hogwarts uniform. It would attract less attention when he finally got to the hospital.

Turning to his bed, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over his robes, knowing that it was odd to double them up but also realizing it would be cold when he flew.

Picking up the Firebolt from his bed, Harry marveled over the gift from Sirius before approaching his bedroom door. He cast his hearing out for 'Dung', as he'd heard Bill call him. He was still shocked that Bill Weasley was in Britain. He'd recognized the eldest Weasley's voice immediately.

Hearing a snort, Harry blinked, waiting for a moment before hearing a snoring breath being drawn in. The man was asleep by the sounds of it. Snorting himself, Harry wondered at the crappy guard he had been given before flicking the light off and opening his door. Honestly, he was surprised the Dursleys hadn't locked him in again.

Silently he crept down the hall and staircase, heading towards the garden. The man's snores were coming from the front of the house. Harry guessed he was probably hiding among the bushes that were under the living room window.

Used to sneaking around due to his adventures around Hogwarts, Harry was easily able to exit the house before mountain his broom, the Firebolt only barely hidden under the cloak. His added height really was a disadvantage at this time. He focused on the tail that was swaying absentmindedly, feeling it curl tightly around his waist a few times before he sat on the broom, kicking off with practiced ease.

He was up among the clouds within a few seconds, the Firebolt's speed unrivaled. He headed north, needing to get a few miles away. Unknown to him, his departure had signaled the wards that were surrounding Number 4 Privet Drive, waking Dung and causing many pops to sound as members of the Order of the Phoenix appeared. They were expecting Death Eaters, only to sneak into the house and discover an empty room.

A piece of parchment caught one pink-haired woman's attention and she frowned, glancing over it before snorting.

**_Dear Dumbledore's spies,  
You need to figure out how to silence your Apparition. Say hello to Bill and whoever 'Dung' is for me. If you warded the house to tell when I left, which you probably did, then you found this note immediately. If not, then you guys are really stupid. Anyway, I suppose I'll be seeing you within a day or two. Depends on how important I am. Seeing as you're guarding this house without doing anything about me getting punched and abused every other day by Vernon, I personally hope you rot in hell.  
Sincerely,  
Harry James Potter  
Boy-Who-Lived  
Pissed-Off-Savior  
P.S. Fuck you, Dumbledore._**

Cackling, Tonks handed the note to Alastor Moody, who grunted at the boy's words and folded the letter. Barking out instructions, the Order members quickly left and started scouring the area for the boy. Moody had sent off a Patronus to Dumbledore, joining the other's in the search.

He knew they should have told the boy.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Harry landed several miles away from the Dursleys, thrusting out his wand and focusing on the Knight Bus. With a crack the triple-decker purple transport service appeared, with Stan started his introduction only to pause and look around, stepping onto the sidewalk. Still hidden under his invisibility cloak, Harry boarded the bus and hurriedly whispering to Stan and making the man jump.

"Go to St. Mungo's and I'll give you a galleon. Act natural."

Used to more than unsavory types using the bus, Stan nodded discretely. Throwing a galleon at the man, Harry quickly moved from the spot he previously occupied as Stan caught the coin, looking at the spot Harry had just left with narrowed eyes. Stepping into the bus, Harry found a spot on an empty bed as Stan looked around for a few more seconds, giving him time to get on obviously, before returning and shrugging at the driver. "False alarm, Ernie."

Meanwhile the teen had whispered St. Mungo's to the old gentleman before leaning against the wall to wait out the quick ride. They were in London within minutes and Harry stepped out as Stan flashed the galleon, taping it against his chin.

Exiting swiftly, Harry heard the whispered 'through the window' from Stan. Flicking another galleon at the teen, Harry was quickly walking away from the Knight Bus even as he saw the man grin in glee, catching the golden coin.

Looking at the condemned department store, Harry stepped over to one of the windows and poked out a finger from beneath the cloak, watching as it went through the glass as if it wasn't there. Nodding to himself he retracted his finger and stepped through confidently, feeling the barrier melt away as if he was heading onto platform nine and three-quarters.

Looking around the reception area, Harry tried not to focus on the injuries he could see before spotting a bathroom. Walking to it swiftly, he avoided anyone that could bump into him before slipping into an open stall. Pulling off the cloak, he quickly stuffed it into his robe pocket, mentally taking note to thank Madam Malkin for magically enlarging his pockets. Following the cloak went his broom now that he could move it without disrupting the cloak's position around his body.

Pulling up his hood, Harry exited the stall, looking around the modest bathroom before exiting and walking over to the receptionist. Glancing up at the five labels that sectioned off the hospital, Harry paused for a moment before going to the stairs located near the elevator. He didn't want to be in an enclosed space with people at a hospital. That was just asking to be sicker than he already was.

When he got to the second floor he gazed around the white-tiled room, seeing Healers bustling about while patients and family members could be seen walking around despite it being past midnight. Heading to the desk that was clearly this floor's receptionist, Harry leaned closer and knocked on the counter, gaining the woman's attention. Looking up, kind brown eyes stared at his shadowed face, unable to distinguish the Boy-Who-Lived due to his facial changes and the fact that his bangs covered his scar.

"What can I do for you, dear?"

"Today was my birthday and when I woke up, I'd grown a foot after an hour my lower back started hurting and my body became achy. Then when I woke up from my nap my face looks different and I have a…tail." The last part was whispered as he leaned closer to the woman, trying to remember any other changes then blinking in remembrance. "Oh, and my ears are pointed now."

Blanching, the woman looked at him in pity. "You too, then? You're the third case today. At least you're faring better than the others."

"Others?" Harry questioned in confusion, scrunching his eyebrows.

"You turned fifteen today, right?" She questioned, getting a hesitant nod. Smiling sadly, the woman shook her head.

"Follow me; you'll want to see Healer Vincent. He'll be explaining to the others soon, they've stabilized finally. Happened at the stroke of midnight but he's been letting them relax a bit."

It was twelve thirty; from what Harry had seen of a clock he'd passed, so it obviously hadn't been long since the others had 'stabilized' as she put it. Sighing, Harry shrugged and followed after the woman down the hallway. There were a few twists and turns before she came upon a large room that held four beds, three of which were occupied.

"We brought them all here after finding out the same thing was happening to them. Go ahead and sit on the fourth bed, I'll have a mediwitch in to examine you before Healer Vincent arrives."

Nodding, Harry entered the room, hearing the door click closed behind him. This drew the attention of the other three occupants and Harry was left to stare in shock at his classmates.

"Hermione? Neville? Susan?" Harry questioned, flabbergasted.

The three students stared at him, frowning as they tried to place his face. Blinking, the teen pulled his hood down, shaking his hair to allow them a flash of the scar. They all gaped before Hermione bounded up from the bed she had been perched in, reading.

"Harry! What are you doing here? You should be at the Dursleys!"

Harry wasn't able to answer, though, mostly because he was staring wide-eyed at the _appendages_ that grew from Hermione's back. Wings. Each seven feet long and knocking aside the drawn back bed curtains as she passed them. They were a mottled mix of browns, with the larger feathers a delicate cream.

Wrapping his arms around her waist in stunned shock, Harry looked down at his longtime friend only to notice that her ears were pointed as well. "Oh shit, you too?"

"Too?" Hermione muttered, looking up at him before noticing that she had to look _up_ at what was once the shortest boy in her year. Gaping, Hermione stared at the newly aristocratic look her friend had, her caramel eyes going from his brilliant green eyes to the pointed ears.

"Please tell me you don't have wings." She begged.

"Worse." He muttered, unclasping his cloak and throwing it on the closest bed, which was unoccupied. He unraveled his tail, only just noticing that it had slipped under his shirt due to the coldness of the air while he was flying. A gasp ripped through Hermione's throat and she hesitantly reached out, only able to skim her fingers against the soft fur before it had flicked away from her clasp.

Harry frowned, glancing back at the appendage and seeing it sweeping back and forth against the tiled floor. Clucking his tongue, he turned to look at the two other occupants of the room, looking them over for drastic – unnatural – changes as well. Susan looked mostly normal, ignoring the ears. Seeing his look, Susan sent him a wan smile, holding up her hands where he noticed the small webbing between fingers normal humans had had risen up to the first knuckle of all her fingers. She next showed her forearms, allowing his sharp eyesight to catch sight of the faintly red scales adorning her skin. When she pushed back her blanket, Harry could only stare at the gleaming red scales that covered her feet – which had also gained webbing up to the knuckles of her toes – before heading up towards her knees, though they became fainter the higher they rose.

He gave her a confused but supportive smile before turning to examine Neville, who came as a larger shock than Susan. The pointed ears were a given by now, but the blond's hair had been bleached to a snow white color while his healthy tan had been to reduced so far that he had a slightly blue tint to him. Despite this he wasn't shivering at all and his normally ocean blue eyes had brightened to a cold light blue that resembled ice.

"Hey, Nev. You cold?" Harry asked curiously, gaining a chuckle out of the boy as he looked down at his arms.

"I worked so hard on that tan too, ya know." Neville pouted, his eyes sparkling playfully and Harry grinned at him.

At that moment the door opened, cutting off anymore conversation. Turning to the mediwitch, Harry rose an eyebrow as she closed it behind her then stepped closer to him, holding a clipboard.

"I'm here to give you a full medical examination as well as find out your personal information."

Harry frowned, looking over the woman. She looked to be in her fifties and she was giving him that same stern look Madam Pomfrey had mastered that dared him to avoid medical treatment. Letting out a sigh, he retracted his arms from around Hermione and turned to face the woman, crossing his arms as his tail absently flicked back and forth. "I'll need an oath that you won't reveal who I am."

"I'm under my Healer Oath not to reveal patient secrets unless critical to their health." She stated, frowning at the young man.

Leveling her with an evaluating gaze, Harry tilted his head to the side and smirked. "Even if I wish for you to keep it from Albus Dumbledore?"

"The headmaster? Why would he…oh." She had just caught sight of his scar, making Harry give a wan smile. Nodding curtly, she started scribbling down Harry's name, seeing as everyone in the Wizarding world knew it.

"Alright, Mr. Potter. We will keep your confidentiality. I'll need you to fill out this sheet while I run a diagnostic charm. Please lay down."

Shrugging, Harry did as asked, taking the quill and clipboard from the woman and lounging against the spare bed. Hermione moved back to her own, wings ruffling impatiently. She wanted to know what had happened to her friend and if he went through the same pain as the rest of them. So far she could easily say Neville had had it the worst, though Susan was a close runner up. At least only her back hurt. Though, there was a dull ache going through her bones as if she had arthritis.

* * *

"Hello, everyone. I'm Healer Vincent. I hope none of you are too tired." The man greeted as he entered the room after knocking. The four teens glanced up from the game of exploding snap they were playing, having been given a card set by one of the nurses.

Shaking their heads, they put away the game as they sent him curious looks. He smiled charmingly, still looking handsome despite his mostly gray hair and age lines. Sending an Imperturbable Charm to the door of the room, the Healer took on of the seats, dragging it around so he would be a few feet away from the teens that were comfortable on the floor. They had dragged the blankets and pillows off the bed, setting them up comfortably on the floor. The man found it to be a habit most children had. They often felt more comfortable huddled together with numerous pillows and blankets. It reminded him of his muggle childhood where he would often make forts in the living room.

"So, we've taken a sample of all your blood to determine if you just have a freak disease or if it's what we expect. We were right."

Seeing the curious looks, Healer Vincent let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You all are half-blooded elves."

"_What_?" Was the unanimous response, green eyes to ice blue to two sets of brown widening in shock.

"I'm muggleborn!" Hermione protested.

"My parents are purebloods." Neville pointed out as well while Susan and Harry exchanged a glance. They were half-bloods, but they both knew that their parents weren't Elven.

"That's another thing. You see, half-elves usually gain the characteristics of their Elven parentage – meaning whatever species of Elf you are you gain their attributes – on their fifteenth birthday. This means you two," Here he pointed at Neville and Harry, "Are completely normal, ignoring who your parents are at the moment. It's the girls who are the odd ones, seeing as they turned fifteen last year. That's only one of the mysteries. The other is _how_ you ended up as half-elves since your parentage is as you believe. We've contacted Augusta and have had blood drawn from Neville's parents here, but not even they have traces of elf in their blood."

Neville had turned paler, if that was possible, at the mention of his parents and Harry patted his back in comfort. He knew they weren't around, he just didn't know _why_ they were in the hospital.

"We're running tests as we speak, though we're as confused as you four. The confusion has only grown since Mr. Potter here has shown up. Oh, by the way, Albus Dumbledore has been discretely asking if you've shown up here and a few other select places. We've deflected him, though we're curious as to why you don't want to be found. That's not here nor there though. Anyway, we'll be contacting our Elven liaisons in the morning to report your half-elf status, as is regulation for this rare occurrence. Half-elves are usually identified well before their fifteenth birthday, you see, so the Elven Courts take care of them. We'll keep your names between us, but you'll find representatives showing up in the afternoon most likely. Meanwhile, we'll be running more tests on your blood and be doing some research into your lineage."

As the man finished speaking, the four students exchanged a look before letting out long suffering sighs. Nodding to the Healer, the four stood from their places on the floor, pulling away their own blankets and pillows from the grouping on the floor. It was late, and they'd probably get to sleep.

"Can you bring us some books on just what we are?" Susan questioned, glancing at the man as he removed his charm on the door.

Turning to smile at the girl, the Healer nodded easily. "Of course. I'll have the morning mediwitch bring you each a volume. You deserve to know about your new abilities. Get some sleep, breakfast will arrive at eight."

Muttering goodbyes, the four heard the click of the door as the man departed before they looked at each other from their separate beds. The two girls were against the opposite wall from Neville and Harry, but all four had drawn back their bed curtains, seeing no need to shield themselves.

"So, how're the wings?" Harry asked jokingly, getting a dirty look from Hermione before she stuck out her tongue playfully.


End file.
